


He's My Business

by cazei



Series: Newsies Works by Readeatsleeprepeat [5]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: I Tried, M/M, Protective Spot, Short as hell, Sick Race, Spot Tries To Be Intimidating, i'm tired give me a break, like spot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 07:02:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10714557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazei/pseuds/cazei
Summary: Spot rolls his eyes. “Kelly, if I see Race, or anyone for that matter, selling when they shouldn’t be, simply because they need the money, it’s on you. This is your borough, take care of it.”-Follow up to my other Fic, Brooklyn Is Boring Without You, because people wanted more. Here's Spot talking to Jack!





	He's My Business

**Author's Note:**

> yo people liked my other one so here's this. ima do another one with spot coming to check on race or something maybe. would you read it?

If Jack was being honest, he thought today was going to be normal. 

He’d woken up, woke some younger newsies, ate breakfast at the Lodge, bought papes, and went to his usual selling spot. All the younger newsies were accounted for, and he had hours to sell a hundred papers. 

All-in-all, it was a regular day. 

And then Crutchie came up to him, just before lunch, to say that Boots had seen Spot Conlon. Jack ignored it, assuming Boots was mistaken. Besides, even if he wasn’t, Brooklyn and Manhattan are on good terms, so Spot was probably just passing through. 

Either way, Jack wasn’t concerned. 

Until, however, he saw the Brooklyn king strolling towards him, just after twelve. 

“Hiya, Spot,” Jack says evenly, but his eyes betray his curiosity. 

“Kelly,” Spot says shortly. 

“Anythin’ I can help you with?” Jack says, putting his papers under his arm. 

“I wanted to discuss something with you, actually.” Spot meets his eyes, which is a feat for the shorter boy. “You’ve got a newsie, sick in bed, over at the Lodge.”

Jack frowns. “Race? Should’a known he wasn’t fit to sell yet.”

“Yet, you let him,” Spot says. “That’s not how we do things in Brooklyn.”

“This isn’t Brooklyn,” Jack says, before realizing that maybe arguing with Spot isn’t in his best interest. “Race said he was fine, I believed him. If I knew he was still sick I would’a let him sit out, Spot. He’s got a good poker face; you know that.”

“You see,” Spot continues as if Jack hadn’t spoken, “In Brooklyn, if someone is sick, we sell papes for them, no questions asked. Everyone pays the rent, no worries needed.”

Jack sighs. “What is this about, Spot? Money? You know we wouldn’t let Race sleep on the streets.”

Spot rolls his eyes. “Kelly, if I see Race, or anyone for that matter, selling when they shouldn’t be, simply because they need the money, it’s on you. This is your borough, take care of it.”

Jack takes care of his borough, he really does. Spot knows this. However, it’s the only angle Spot can take without seeming suspicious. 

“Why come yourself?” Jack asks. “If this was all you had to say, you’d send Sling or Leaf."

And Jack caught on. 

Spot walks away, calling over his shoulder, “Race’s honorary Brooklyn. He’s my business, I don’t care where he sleeps. Got it?”

Jack doesn’t answer.

**Author's Note:**

> would you read a follow up with spot coming to check on race? or other things in this series? 
> 
> comment if you liked this!!


End file.
